Archive for February 11th, 2011
Office floors disgorge concrete.
The rugs, so fake, so thin, so dark, so hellish.
Concrete is prettier.
Our rugs flatter sense of power and importance.
Beautiful suits hide vacuous souls
industrious in watching how smart we are,
coasting in chairs on indigestible rugs,
leaning back, luxuriating in our prominence,
wondering when the day will come
when servants bring us all things
and make us whole in the chairs
we never leave.
Suddenly with the tactile brightness
from the intrusive, unwieldy snow,
the days are longer.
They have been for weeks,
but my soul is unusually buoyed today.
my soul being waved around
by the length of the day
like a terrible doll
from my dog’s clenched fangs.
The snow has its days
I need help to make my days.
Darkness should not swim so long
in my tiny green pond with dead fish.
She blows softly with devotion,
cooling nurturing soup.
Would she blow beauty on me?
I would swoop euphorically
between her breasts,
her extravagant skin.
She would swoosh her satiny, fanciful hair
all over my eyelashes,
and my spirit would erupt,
twirling and bouncing about the bed
as if on fire.